Junkie
by OneMorePerson
Summary: Is it love? Or is it coffee? Mia/Diego


Coffee, Mia Fey had to conclude, was evil. That was the only logical explanation for the behaviour of the junkie perched precariously on her desk, wielding a heavy looking pot plant.

"Mr Armando, come down from the desk."

The madman only laughed, wobbled, and spilled soil across her paperwork.

"Diego, please, you're messing up my files."

He just grinned wolfishly at her. It must be withdrawal, she realised. Maybe if she made him another cup? To join the twelve empty ones lying unwashed in the sink. Resigned, she crossed the shared office to put the kettle on. He waved at her from above.

"If you're making a cup, kitten….." He gestured hopefully.

"Only if you come down from my desk, Mr Armando."

He pouted. "I preferred Diego."

She threw her hands up in frustration. "Fine, Diego, whatever. Just, why are you standing on my desk?"

"Because you're working too hard, kitten."

"And you thought I should spend my break coaxing you down from my desk?"

"Yup."

"While you hold my office plant hostage?"

"I told you, you can have _Charlie _back when you ditch the filing, and come for a drink with me."

Stupid smarmy lawyers with their stupid caffeine addictions and stupid sexy smiles.

"Mr Armando, is there nothing else you can do to amuse yourself?"

"Well, since you asked….."

He was by her side in a single bound, and before she could register the movement, he had set down the plant, taken her hand and whisked her down the corridor. Stumbling to keep up with him; Mia found herself mentally retracting her earlier argument that coffee, in fact, did not give you super powers. She had to readdress a lot of her beliefs when she was with him.

When he finally paused outside the offices, she was spluttering too hard to argue, or even to object. She was still coughing when he flagged down and bundled her into a taxi, so hard she didn't hear the instructions he gave the driver. When she finally regained her composure, he was jiggling up and down, whether from excitement or the fact he hadn't had a cup of coffee in at least ten minutes she couldn't tell.

"You realise kidnap is illegal?"

He grinned. "Don't worry kitten, I'm sure you'll defend me if I get arrested."

"Don't bet on it." She huffed, folding her arms defiantly. "I'll go work for the DA."

He laughed even harder. "Kitten, people like you and me, we aren't prosecutors. We're just too nice. Besides, you'd miss me when I was gone."

Irritatingly, he was right.

"Where are you taking me?" Safe, mundane. Immune to her hormones. "Oh no, wait, don't tell me. We're going for coffee."

"Please, credit me some originality."

The taxi pulled up sharply in front of a building, and he threw a handful of notes over the seat. She slid out of the vehicle after him, and regarded him and the building critically, arms folded.

"We went for coffee."

He tipped his head back and laughed. "Not just any coffee. This is _the _coffee."

She sighed. He had made her abandon her work for this? Once inside, she was forced to re-evaluate her opinion slightly. The café was tastefully decorated; the music was atmospheric and subtle, not blaring obstructively through the quiet, and the soft coffee aromas were appetizing, not over powering. The man may be a jerk, but he had style.

A waiter, dressed eerily similar to Armando himself, led them to a small booth, and took their orders. Diego stopped her from ordering cream and sugar. Coffee had to be respected, he told her. If it wasn't drunk black, it wasn't worth drinking.

After his third cup, which admittedly wasn't a great stretch of time, she stopped him.

"What is it with the coffee addiction, anyway?"

It was a casual question, and she was shocked by the intensity of the expression he gave her in return.

"I suppose that when I find something I love, I just can't let go."

She barely had time to absorb the possibly meanings behind his simple explanation before his familiar cocky grin was once again plastered across his face.

It stayed unfalteringly the whole taxi ride, and was in place as he walked her back to the office. It was a little un-nerving, and yet still remarkably sexy. When they stopped outside the door, much to Mia's surprise, impulse took over. Quick as a flash, and much to her own surprise, her lips brushed against his cheek, and then she was gone, the office door banging closed behind her. If it was even possible, his smile grew even wider. Yes, he was addicted.


End file.
